The Undergrounders know of my love for low modulus fly rods – namely bamboo and fiberglass.

Of the two, fiberglass is far more accessible; it’s light, affordable, tough, and requires about as much maintenance as your average doorstop.

That’s why news in the fiberglass fly rod industry piques our interest (nay it excites us).

First, the Juicy Rumor

An Alert Anonymous Undergrounder tells us Cortland *will* return selected Diamondglass rods to production, courtesy not their overseas plants, but a USA-based builder.

Regulars will know of my love for the 8.5′ Diamondglass 4wt – a rod I told everyone to buy when they could, because – like many discontinued-but-classic fly rods – they’d miss it when it was gone.

Today, I see used Diamondglass 8.5′ rods selling for full retail, and should they once again become available, I predict solid sales of both rods and blanks (you can never have too much fly rod goodness).

More as this glass news happens.

Glass Goodness From the Left Coast

Larry Kenney – longtime industry stalwart and former Scott rod biggie – announced he’d completed development of his own fiberglass fly rods, and was commencing production.

The Fiberglass Manifesto site ran Kenney’s announcement – including a list of rods (the 8′3″ 4/5 sounds tasty, as does the 7′9″ 3wt) and prices ($580-$595).

Unfortunately, he’s (so far) limiting himself to 25 rods per year, but hey – they’re still hundreds less than high-end graphite.

And because your fly rod happiness is all that really matters to me, I’ll speak freely of things heard on the downlow.

One extremely well-versed fly rod tester test-cast Kenney’s prototypes some time ago, and was impressed. And when he’s impressed, I’m impressed.

See you at the fly rod rack, Tom Chandler

Technorati Tags: cortland, diamondglass fly rod, fiberglass fly rod, fly rod, larry kenney fly rod

The Rod ‘O Rama is a fly fishing staple – an afternoon where pretty much every fly rod you own ends up leaning against something in the back yard, lines strung, loops formed, actions evaluated.

A stack of fly rods leaning against the rail - the inevitable result of a Rod 'O Rama

Naturally, a good Rod ‘O Rama involves more than one person, and in extreme circumstances, disagreements over rod action or desirability may be settled with dueling pistols.

Mostly, a simple “you’re a clueless bastard” is enough.

During a really epic Rod ‘O Rama, you can dig out rods you haven’t seen in years (I don’t want to own any rods I haven’t fished in years, but have to admit I do), and – in rare instances – you may unearth fly rods you forgot you owned.

In this case, I found two rods I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen before, though I finally solved the mystery on one.

It was a Raine bamboo rod tube containing a butt and mid, but – puzzlingly – no tips.

It was a model I’d never owned, but realized later he’d grabbed it out of his shop by accident when we went fishing last fall, borrowed my spare rod that day, and then forgot to retrieve the tube from my truck.

I’m wondering what a reasonable ransom looks like.

The Theme of The Day: 6 WTs

A Rod ‘O Rama theme is useful, and in this instance, Older Bro was loooking for a 6wt, which means he got to cast everything from an decades-old Orvis Superfine 6wt to sweet 14 year-old Sage DS – right up to Raine’s saltwater 6wt and the high-tech Orvis Hydros that replaced my much-missed Zero Gravity.

Initially, you try to limit the madness to one type of rod, but eventually the words “if you like that, you’ll love my XXXX” are heard, and suddenly, you’re casting four and five weights too.

Before it’s over, you’ve got everything from a 60 year-old Phillipson to a two-month-old graphite leaning against the rail – every one of which is loaded with some kind of memory.

You find yourself ankle-deep in the snow still covering the yard, false casting a fly rod, adjusting the loop size, and the memory of a rainy day on a lake washes over you.

You may or may not remember how cold and wet you were, but you do remember dropping the rod in the shallow water because you were holding a 17″ rainbow, and that its strawberry lateral line lit up the rainy, monochromatic, steel-grey environment you’d come to accept as normal.

Later, I found myself casting a 7.5′ 5wt Fenwick glass rod – the factory equivalent to my first fly rod, one I built in the mid-70s from a blank.

While the original rod met its end in a Santa Clara garage, the replacement feels similar enough that casting it reminded me of the bluegills and crappie I caught from a muddy, weedy lake better than 30 years ago.

Putting Them Away… Sorta

Ultimately, Older Bro’ found a rod he liked, and since I had a similar rod, sent him home with it.

Yet, when I put all the rod tubes away, I noticed a few – like the Fenwick – ended up a little closer to the front of the pile.

It’s not spring yet – there’s still snow on the ground and the alpine trails are months away from opening – but we’re seeing the signs.

The blue jays who nest under the front eaves came back today, and temperatures could run into the upper 50s all week.

So while I can’t fish the small streams yet (not legally), I can set aside a few rods that haven’t been fished in a while, and imagine creating new memories with them over the coming season.

See you when the streams open, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: bamboo fly rods, fly fishing memories, fly fishing rod, fly rod, fly rod 'o rama, fly rods

Alert Underground Reader Gary pointed out the Underground’s Favorite Cheap, Waterproof, Point & Shoot Camera is on sale for $174 (the Pentax Optio W80), and because our single biggest concern in life is our reader’s happiness, we immediately passed this offer along to you:

Want a good deal on a nice waterproof digital camera? Click the picture.

In the interest of not receiving hate mail full disclosure, I’m compelled to point out that I don’t actually own a W80. Instead, the Underground is neatly decorated in photographs taken with my aging W10 (an earlier model), which continues to function just barely well enough to keep me from plundering Little M’s college account in the quest for a new one.

Looking for a near-indestructible, waterproof fishing camera that requires as much maintenance as your average doorstop?

Want something you can drop in the river without penalty?

See you behind the camera, Tom Chandler.

(More Full Disclosure: I receive no compensation for sales of this camera. I just do this because at the Underground, the giving never stops…)

Technorati Tags: outdoor photography, pentax optio, pentax option W80

The power’s flickering on and off like a damn pinball game today, so you’re reading a draft of what could have been another brilliant post. Damn.

Felt-soled wading boots for fly fishermen may be the sport’s latest endangered species; bans on felt soles seem to be picking up steam. What will fly fishermen be wearing five years from now?

The latest ban has appeared in Alaska’s southeast region – a ban that could easily be extended to cover the entire state (from the Juneau Empire):

A new ban on felt-soled wading shoes is set to take place next year as Juneau fishermen take to freshwater streams with fly rods in hand.

The ban is meant to keep nasty fish diseases from creeping into waters on the waders of traveling fishermen.

A proposal to expand the ban from the Southeast region statewide will be considered by the state Board of Fisheries at its March meeting in Anchorage.

…

Whirling disease is just one communicable fish disease of concern. Didymo, an algae also called rock snot, mud snails and zebra mussels are others that can kill all the fish in a stream.

“The waters where fly fishermen tend to fish and wade have become a map of the spread of these problems,” Vinsel said.

Ouch. Fly fishermen seem to bearing the brunt of the criticism over the spread of invasives – as are felt soles.

The extent of the blame that can be laid on felt soles isn’t really all that clear, and one of the cruel ironies of a felt sole ban is that fly fishermen – thinking their rubber-soled wading boots and waders were now “safe” – might actually become less vigilant about cleaning.

These bans are aimed traveling fly fishermen, which only makes sense; the stuff already in the river isn’t the problem.

The stuff from someone else’s river is.

You’ll Be Practicing Safe Wading Sooner Rather Than Later

Regardless of the science for or against, felt soles probably will be banned in many locations, which is one of the reasons I fired up last year’s rubber-soled wading boot test (the biggest reason was my own desire for long-lived soles, which makes me cheap as well as green).

I’m generally happy with the grip provided by rubber soles, but a lot of commentors on the Underground weren’t – and several wrote to say they were sticking with felt.

Your choice, and it’s possible you’ll enjoy the felt option for years to come. And it’s also possible you won’t.

Anglers who are fly fishing in Alaska – a popular destination – may find themselves scrambling for a felt replacement sooner than they think.

Fortunately, I’m only a pair of fishing trips away from wrapping up wading boot test, though few surprises seem to loom.

I really like the sticky rubber Patagonia Riverwalkers on small streams – and even on the Upper Sacramento River (where others have been less than enthralled).

Overall, the Simms, Korker and Patagonia rubber soles offer advantages, but seem unsuited from anything tougher than the Rouge or Upper Sac – and they’re real deathtraps on the McCloud or Pit.

My unanswered questions remain around the rubber soles with studs screwed in, which represent the unfinished part of the test.

I screwed a dozen studs into one sole of the Simms Headwater wading boots, and yes – it gripped better than the plain sole.

Better enough? More testing is needed.

Plus, Orvis has hinted at the arrival of a fabulous new pair of studded rubber soles, and we’ll take a look at those as soon as we see them.

For now, those who tend toward indecision might want to consider a pair of the Korkers Guide Boots, which offer interchangeable soles in everything from studded felt to studded rubber, and plain varieties too.

They might be just the ticket for the traveling fly fisherman – who’s in a restricted area on day, a drift boat the next, and hiking into the backcountry the next.

Baby needs a new pair of boots, Tom Chandler

Technorati Tags: felt sole ban, felt soled wading boot, Fly Fishing, invasive species, rubber soled wading boot, wading boot, wading boot ban

Fly fishing in the winter isn’t the Big Secret it once was, and frankly – given the quality of today’s winter gear – it’s also not the sufferfest it was as little as a decade ago.

Fly fishing when ice is as common as the water offers its own challenges...

(Whether that’s good or bad depends entirely on your feelings about impressing other fly fishermen with Jack London fishing stories)

In the “old” days (like upwards of four years ago), cold weather meant a couple base layers, at least one fleece layer (perhaps two), and a wading jacket.

It kept you warm, but was bulky, and god forbid the sun came out or you decided to hike thirty minutes to another spot.

Fleece is wonderful stuff, but it doesn’t compress at all, and most wading jackets don’t exactly crush down to fist-sized wads.

In other words, those layers are hell to stuff into the back of a vest.

Fly fishing in the winter: You're dealing with a lot of variables.

“Warm” when you’re standing stock still in a river waving a stick at a BWO hatch is different from “warm” when you’re briskly skiing or hiking to the river.

And while layering is a useful concept, it doesn’t always adapt well to circumstances where you can peel away a layer, but lack a place to put it once you do.

Like when you’re fly fishing.

First, The Soft Shell Arrives

A truism about being outdoors in the winter is that “way too warm” is almost always worse than “a teensy bit cold.”

That’s because overheating leads to sweat, which leads to hypothermia, which is why – two winters ago – I expressed my love for Patagonia’s Insulator soft shell jacket.

It was a brilliant piece of engineering – one I found desirable for its adaptability and serviceability across a very wide range of temperatures.

To refresh, Patagonia’s Insulator soft shell isn’t bulky, insulates nicely, repels water and wind, yet moves moisture like the California Aqueduct – so hiking/skiing fly fishermen don’t become sweat-soaked hiking/skiing fly fishermen.

My Insulator soft shell sheds water, but stays warm even when it gets wet.

It’s become my all-around cold-weather fishing jacket – one I wear even when I’m not fly fishing (chicks dig me in it).

On this winter’s pair of ski/fish trips, I never really needed anything besides my Insulator soft shell – a startling confession given the difference between standing in 38 degree water and xc-skiing for 50 minutes up a steep hill.

Still, despite my love of the soft shell, they do run run second best when temperatures fall below freezing – especially if you’re not hiking, skiing or generating any heat of your own.

When it’s real cold and you’re simply standing in a river – or in the front of a drift boat – something warmer would make for a happier fly fisherman.

Soft shells don’t react well to a lot of base layers, so you can’t simply throw a few long-sleeve underlayers on when it gets cold.

In other words, when it’s truly cold, it’s not your best choice.

Welcome to Nano and Micro territory.

Cue The Happier Fly Fisherman

A while after I sprung for the Patagonia Insulator, I also bought Patagnoia’s Micro Puff jacket – a piece of clothing recommend by every mountain guide I spoke to (and mountain guides know from cold).

And yes, I discovered it’s everything they said it was – unbelievably light, windproof, water resistant, extremely compressible, warm when wet, and… very warm.

Really warm.

In fact, it’s often a little too warm for an active fly fisherman in this part of the country.

I wore it – and loved it when I needed it – but kept bumping against an unfortunate reality; the Micro Puff overheated me within minutes of starting a hike or if the sun came out.

Which is often how my fly fishing goes.

My army-drab Micro Puff jacket: Great when you need it, too warm when you don't.

I ended up wearing the Micro Puff when I knew I’d be standing in the front of a drift boat, or fishing a single, waist-deep run when it was very cold. And basically loved every second of it.

Lightweight and supple, I hardly knew it was there.

Yet the fly in the ointment is that the Micro Puff was often too warm for this area’s above-arctic temperatures, though on a pair of occasions I was damned glad I had it along. And yes, it almost always came “along” – it compresses into a sack about the size of a small lunch bag.

If I lived farther north – like one of those deluded souls who inhabit northern Montana or Idaho – my Micro Puff would probably never leave my body.

My mountain guide friends use the things endlessly; they ski or climb in their soft shells, but once they stop for any length of time, out comes the Micro Puff, which fits over their soft shell, keeping them warm while their disgustingly fit guide bodies stop burning calories.

As I discovered, that works better at 10,000′ than it does at 2500′.

This year, looking for a kinder, gentler version of the Micro Puff, I tumbled for Patagonia’s Nano Puff pullover (Disclosure: despite being handsome and thrifty and frankly deserving of a lot more free swag than I actually get, I bought my Nano Pullover, though got a “media” discount).

Nano Perfection

In essence, the Nano is an even lighter variation off the Micro Puff jacket; less insulation wrapped in an even smaller package (it stuffs into its own pocket, which is about the size of a small, thick paperback book).

The Nano Pullover (photo stolen from Patagonia)

Despite its “floats on air” mass, it’s still windproof, still water “resistant” and yes – quite warm.

Just not too warm.

I still wouldn’t wear it while skiing, but it’s so damned small and light that I can bring it along when I do.

Couple it with a baselayer and a rain jacket (for when it really rains), and I’ve got something that will work right down to the temperatures where it’s really too cold to fish.

The Nano I bought was so well received in the Underground’s household that it almost immediately disappeared into the L&T’s cavernous closet.

She found it indispensable for downhill skiing, post-xc-skiing, and just generally wearing around town.

This meant that – when I needed it for fishing – it was usually gone, and while Patagonia still has to answer for almost causing a divorce, I finally broke down and ordered a women’s model for the L&T, reclaiming mine by force when hers arrived.

Who says money can’t buy happiness?

A portrait of the writer being happily warm...

The Lightweight Revolution: A Plea For Sanity

Fly fishing tends to lag other (higher-tech) outdoor sports on the clothing front, and why not?

Despite a lot of videos to the contrary, fly fishing is not an “extreme” sport in the climactic sense, and I think we’re only experiencing the lightweight/minimalist revolution that has shaped mountaineering and backpacking the past ten years.

In essence, it’s no longer considered smart (or fashionable) to carry 65 pound backpacks on weekend trips or lug huge technical daypacks on simple ski trips.

Older Bro Chandler – who once lugged backpacks in the 45 pound range – has embraced backpacking’s lightweight revolution, and now routinely finds himself shouldering three-day packs weighing less than 20 pounds.

Even though wide-angle distortion makes it bigger than it really is, you can tell the Nano Puff packs small.

Materials advances have accounted for some of the weight loss, as has a willingness to cut out the useless crap that was formerly used to conquer the wilderness instead of simply passing through it.

Accounting for most of weight loss is an embrace of minimalism, which means that an ultra lightweight tarp might be prove just as useful as a tent, and that the equipment itself didn’t exactly need to be built to resist nuclear attacks.

A case in point is the Older Bro’s old Dana backpack, which was state of the art a decade ago. Unloaded, it weighed in at a manly 8.5 pounds, and literally would last forever.

Today, his bare Osprey pack weighs just over three pounds.

One difference is the design philosophy – buying goodies made to last four lifetimes is great, except that hardly anybody backpacks more than a dozen times a year, or needs bombproof straps, or needs all those straps to being with.

And five pounds is five pounds.

Invoking the same design philosophy across every category of gear has resulted in people hiking the Pacific Crest Trail with (admittedly extreme) 10 pound packs.

We may be on the verge of seeing the beginnings of that thinking today in fly fishing – wading jackets are getting lighter (and thinner), minimalist chest packs are appearing, and even wading boots seem to be on a diet.

Every time I drag my fly fishing gear to an alpine lake, I couldn’t be happier.

My soft shell remains at the center of my winter fly fishing universe, but I can also stuff my Marmot Precip rain jacket (very light) and a Nano Puff in the back pocket of my chest pack (they both fit), and be ready for everything from a frozen downpour to a hard ski out of the river canyon in brilliant sunshine.

The Frozen River: What do you wear to fish this?

If the forecast was for really cold temps – and I was standing on the front of a drift boat or waist deep in a steelhead run all day long – I’d pop for the Micro Puff and my soft shell, and If I had to wear both together and still wasn’t warm, I’d know I needed to get the hell out of there.

One caveat to all this lightweight love is this: My Nano Puff pullover is nowhere near as durable as my Filson waxed cotton wading jacket.

If I repaired trucks or trimmed trees for a living, I wouldn’t wear a Nano to work.

The Micro and Nano’s whisper light fabric has held up so far, but a guide rowing a boat every day might opt for something more durable (and heavier), and that makes sense.

Still, I think the lightweight revolution is peeking out from around the edges of the fly fishing world.

All the major fly fishing manufacturers now offer soft shell jackets, and Orvis is touting its sonic welded seam wader and wading jacket technology for lightweight, packable waders and jackets.

(A report is coming on the Orvis packable waders as soon as they’ve been put through their paces, though I can say the sonic seam waders may well get a workout whenever I’m away from the Upper Sac’s wild blackberries).

Simms offers what appears to be a lightweight insulated jacket in the same vein as Patagonia’s Micro/Nano jackets (though Simms doesn’t offer weight data), and almost everyone is throwing their hat in the minimalist vest/chest pack/sling bag ring.

In other words, the days of carrying enough gear (and enough overbult gear) to invade Canada – and earning the stooped posture to go with it – may be ending for fly fishermen.

In a day (summer or winter), we can literally cover miles of river and spend hours on our feet – a lot of it spent wading in fast-moving water – and if we bothered to check, I think we’d learn that even a five-pound weight difference would make a big difference at the end of a day (or a couple of them).

Frankly, the less I hurt, the happier I am. (I may not be alone in this.)

(Interesting lightweight side note: My four-day backpack trip up Tennessee’s Hazel Creek saw my pack, tent, gear & food come in at 23 pounds, yet my clunky fly fishing gear – waders, boots, two rods, one reel and flies – sadly added almost 15 pounds to the equation. Anyone still wonder why I’m grateful for lighter weight fly fishing gear?)

I’ll find out for sure during next year’s alpine fishing adventures, but I bet I can shave a good ten pounds off my “let’s hike into an alpine lake and fish it today” pack simply by using lighter, more appropriate gear.

And as Older Bro has pointed out (often), when you’re hiking, ounces equal pounds, and pounds equal pain.

See you on the river (warm but lightweight), Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: Fly Fishing, fly fishing gear, fly fishing in winter, gear review, patagonia insulator soft shell, patagonia micro-puff jacket, patagonia nano puff jacket

I can’t remember if I covered this before, but Alert Underground Reader Ron (who blogs endlessly about cycling gear here) alerted us to the existence of probably the Single Best Way To Activate Your Fly Rod’s Lifetime Warranty: The Bike Fishermen Rod Holder.

Faster than you can say "about my lifetime warranty..."

Frankly, nothing says “lifetime warranty” better than a fly rod – only inches away from the Spinning Spokes of Doom – sticking straight up into the air.

The Bike Fishermen folks even offer a “Fly Pole Adapter” which allows you to carry your fly rod (reel in place) in two pieces, as if nothing could go wrong when you’ve pointed two 4.5′ pieces of extremely fragile graphite straight up.

The whole Bike & Bug thing isn’t exactly new, but I humbly suggest I’d feel a lot safer riding my mountain bike up a twisted, tree-lined trail to that alpine lake if my fly rod was still in its protective tube instead of sticking straight up in the air.

There’d be little amusement in arriving at that pristine alpine lake, spotting dozens of fish casually sipping midges, and turning around in the saddle – only to find two splintered stumps where your $700 fly rod used to be.

And while I hope these folks don’t lose their shirt on this one, I’d suggest they retain the services of a copywriter, who presumably would have pointed out the dualistic nature of their slogan, which seems to suggest it’s better to break rods the modern way instead of the old fashioned way:

Break your rods the modern way?

As always, Undergrounder participation is encouraged – especially if anyone has created any cool “cast & roll fast” rigs the rest of us could see.

See you on the trail, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: bike fishermen rod holder, broken fly rod, fly rod, fly rod holder, fly rod lifetime warranty, fly rods

Every major designer fashion brand has its counterfeiters – fake knock-off products designed to look like an expensive product. It’s not unusual to find fake Rolex watches or fake designer clothing being sold as the real thing.

It’s even happening in the shooting sports, where expensive Leupold rifle scopes are being knocked off – and the factory folks aren’t happy:

The Outdoor Pressroom: Leupold issues counterfeit riflescope alert

Optics maker Leupold® has posted a customer alert on its Web site regarding bogus Leupold products that are apparently being illegally imported from the People’s Republic of China. According to the posting, counterfeited Leupold Mark 4® riflescopes have begun to arrive with increasing regularity at the firm’s Beaverton, Oregon, headquarters for service in recent months.

Naturally, the Underground sees a business opportunity has got to ask: Why not counterfeited high-end fly rods or fly reels?

How hard would it really be to knock off a high-end Sage or Winston or Orvis fly rod? Anything with distinctive, limited-availability hardware would likely be difficult, but since most graphite blanks look fairly similar, I wouldn’t think reproducing the overall look (guides, wraps, grip, etc) would pose a challenge.

If a decent reproduction could be crafted on a low-cost blank, would we see the knockoffs popping up on eBay and on less-scrupulous online sites – “bargain priced” $750+ rods selling for $100 or less?

My guess? The market’s simply too small.

The worldwide market for a Rolex knockoffs is huge. The worldwide market for high-end fly rods or fly reels is really pretty damned small.

And yes, most rod sales still take place via fly shops, which would presumably know the difference (and most of their rods come straight from the manufacturer).

Still, will the day come when some trenchcoat-wearing guy steps out from behind a tree on your favorite river, opens the coat to reveal a half-dozen rod tubes and says “pssst… buddy – you looking for a great deal on a brand-new Helios? Only $50…”

See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

fly fishing, fly fishing rod, fly reel, fly rod, fake fly rod

Technorati Tags: fake fly rod, Fly Fishing, fly fishing rod, fly reel, fly rod

It’s tempting to suggest that the new “sticky” rubber wading boot soles are revolutionizing the industry, but that’s only really true in a marketing sense.

While the new rubber soles seemingly offer evolutionary potential – studded rubber soles could ultimately replace felt/studded felt, largely for economic reasons – the standard sticky rubber probably won’t replace anything anytime soon.

My recent October Caddis trip found me wearing Simms’ new StreamTread (Vibram rubber soled) Headwater boots, while Older Bro wore one Korkers Guide Boot with a plain “Kling-On” sticky rubber sole, and one with a studded rubber “Kling-On” sole.

Korkers were made for testing

I quickly discovered the plain, un-studded Simms soles worked… OK.

Well, not really.

I didn’t fall.

But I did skid. And slide. And skate.

The same soles that performed surprisingly well on the fairly flat-bottomed-but-snotty Rogue River failed miserably on the Upper Sac’s angular streambed.

Step on a rock that angled downward, and my boots were sure to follow.

If the Vibram-soled Simms wading boots are destined for wide market acceptance, then they’ll do so on the back of one of two things:

• Massive growth of fly fishermen accessing easy-wading rivers (like the Rogue or Bitterroot)
• The liberal application of Simms Wading boot studs

The Korkers Story

The Korkers Guide Boots were seemingly tailor-made for this kind of testing; the soles are interchangeable, so it was easy to stick a studded rubber sole in the left boot, leaving the plain “sticky” rubber sole in the right.

The results were (by now) predictable.

The lack of grip offered by the plain rubber sole made the right boot immensely unpopular with novice wader Older Bro, and in truth, you could actually see the difference when he waded.

His right boot didn’t stick, and his left boot did.

OK.

This was sorta expected.

Wading Boots, So Far

I’m slowly but surely working my way towards one conclusion: For general, all-around use on freestone rivers, most anglers will want to add studs to their “sticky” rubber soled boots.

Straight sticky rubber might work fine on easier rivers, and if I fished the Bitterroot exclusively, plain rubber would be enough.

And yes, for small stream work, you’ll have to pry my Patagonia Riverwalkers – the only truly “sticky” rubber soles of the lot – from my cold, dead feet.

I’ve gotten along OK on the Upper Sacramento with my plain rubber Patagonia boots, but on steeper freestone rivers like the McCloud (hard wading), and the Pit River (got insurance?), plain rubber could earn you an eventual trip to the ER.

What’s Next?

The Underground’s fulltime Wading Boot Engineer stayed up all night and added studs to the Simms boots, and the Korkers will soon be sporting one felt sole alongside the studded rubber.

As I said before, studded rubber might prove a worthwhile replacement for studded felt purely on longevity and economic grounds, but first it has to deliver near-studded felt grip.

That may not be all that difficult; my old Weinbrenner studded rubber boots worked well enough to become my everyday boots, and the new rubber soles should (hopefully) deliver better grip than those.

In other words, more to come. Stay tuned.

Technorati Tags: korker guide boots, korkers wading boots, patagonia, patagonia riverwalker wading boots, simms headwater wading boots, simms streamtread, wading boot, wading boot test

With only minutes to spare before older (less-better-looking) bro arrives and we head out to see what damage we can do to the trout population (hopefully in the grip of October Caddis fever), I thought I’d resurrect our wading boot test.

You’re looking at a pair of Korkers Guide boots with a studded rubber sole on one foot, and the plain rubber on the other.

Studded rubber on one side, plain "sticky" rubber on the other (courtesy my cell phone camera)

This, I think, should prove interesting.

Next I plan to do the same with the Simms wading boots, and yes – the Korkers will eventually permit me to compare studded rubber to studded felt (these thing were made for testing).

With any luck, I’ll return (sans dunking) with pictures of big trout and a review of the real difference between studded and un-studded rubber – and some idea as to whether the Korkers studded rubber soles will cut it on the Upper Sacramento.

Naturally, all this is subjective (well, not the big trout part), but if it’s one thing fly fishermen manufacture in abundance, it’s opinions.

See you on the river (finally!!), Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: fishing, Fly Fishing, korkers wading boots, october caddis, studded rubber wading boot, upper sac, Upper Sacramento, wading boot

Fly fishing a small stream rarely generates the reams of “technical” literature devoured by fly fishing’s technocrats. It’s a simple act, and suggesting the #16 Red Humpy I fished during yesterday’s trip was somehow the “perfect” fly would be to (convincingly) play the role of a fool.

Instead, I’ll say it worked well enough, as did the 8.5′ 4wt Diamondglass rod I fished on this tiny stream, though at times I think an 8′ rod might have been handier – and perhaps spooked fewer trout in the casting.

Sticky rubber soles: I may never wear anything else on a small stream

I also say this with some certainty: The Patagonia Riverwalker “sticky” rubber boots absolutely excel on small streams. It’s true the new sticky rubber soles are not quite ready to take on the toughest wading tasks (slimy rocks), but then, I’ve always thought felt soles weren’t quite ready for my small stream adventures.

Comfortable, light and absolutely rubber-cement sticky on dry rocks, the Riverwalkers never slipped once, even on those wet, flat, angled rocks that normally threaten to skate your studded soles into a nasty fall.

Some have questioned the need to replace felt soles based on the spread of invasives, and I’d agree the invasives angle smells like a marketing construct – there are too many other hiding places on a boot and waders.

That said, these particular sticky rubber boots are simply way better than your father’s lugged rubber boots – good enough that I’m keeping my sticky rubber soles in a pristine state, and looking for a studded rubber replacement to felt (note: our studded rubber sole testing project has been delayed due to life, but is due to start again soon).

That’s not to stem the tide of invasives; it’s because my own testing suggests studded rubber boots work better in a variety of conditions, and yes, they last much, much longer. With baby probably already needing a new pair of shoes (and maybe braces, and college), longer and cheaper is better.

The question now is will the Patagonia Sticky rubber/Simms & Vibram harder rubber/Korkers “Kling-on” rubber soles – in conjunction with studs – perform better than straight (or even studded) felt?

Testing will resume this fall.

See you on the soapbox, Tom Chandler

Technorati Tags: felt wading boots, fishing, Fly Fishing, korker wading boots, patagonia riverwalker, patagonia sticky rubber, rubber soled wading boots, simms wading boots, wading boots

My recent Montana trip only served to confirm what I’d come to believe about the new generation of sticky rubber soled wading boots.

They’re better than ever – and ideal for some applications – but not quite ready to take on the toughest wading challenges… unaided.

What's next for the Underground's sticky rubber wading boot test? Grip, baby. Grip.

Because I’m sick and tired concerned about the whining safety of the Underground’s Crack Team of Wading Boot Testers (how many emails complaining about compound fractures should one guy have to endure), the small stack of rubber-soled wading boots are facing some alterations.

Simms was nice enough to send along a set of their carbide-tipped screw-in studs, and the Korkers can be equipped with a set of studded rubber “Kling-on” soles – and also felt & studded felt.

So here’s the gig.

One of the Simms soles will be on the receiving end of studs, and in a daring, in-stream, boot-to-boot comparison, we’ll see how that boot compares to the other unstudded sole.

The chameleon-esque Korkers will be outfitted with a mixture of studded rubber, felt, and studded felt, and we’ll see what happens in our direct, boot-to-boot comparison.

The Patagonia Riverwalkers may remain unaltered for a while – the “control” group for sticky rubber.

Slowing the testing a little bit is a busy work schedule, a couple weeks of 90+ degree temperatures (that’s a long string of hot for up here), and an ongoing desire to fly fish the little stuff (backcountry streams and lakes).

Accordingly, I plan to enlist the help of some of the local attention-craving helpful guides.

There’s more to come on the equipment front, though things move slowly here because we foolishly actually test gear before we write a review – a process which results in more accuracy, but less throughput.

It’s just how we roll.

Coming Up

Proving that nothing interests people more than the fear that someone’s getting something they’re not, my review of the Redington fly rod & reel combo triggered inquiries from a pair of fly rod companies. And yes, I may enlist the help of the Undergrounders in deciding what rods to test.

Then there’s the story which is going to blow the lid off the fly fishing… err… fly fishing hat industry.

In other words, through years of testing, we’ve identified the World’s Best All-Around Warmweather Fly Fishing Hat, and because we’re externally validated nice enough to share, we’re going to let the world know it.

Some days, it’s just plain great to be us.

See you [teetering, windmilling, and falling] on the river, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: Fly Fishing, korkers wading boots, patagonia wading boots, rubber wading boots, simms wading boots, studded rubber wading boots, wading boots

The Redington line of fly fishing gear is what a marketer would call a “value” brand – fly fishing rods, reels and gear that don’t compete at the very high end of the price range, but (theoretically) offer more “value” than premier brands.

In the past, “value” was often synonymous with half-assed gear, which is why – when Redington offered up a fly rod and reel for review – I was a little hesitant.

Early Redington fly rods (prior to the company’s purchase by the same corp that owns Sage and Rio) had a reputation for wildness; one taper would be brilliant, yet another would be awful.

That was a decade ago, but the downside to testing gear is that you should actually use it (at least, some of us prefer it that way). That can be a joy, but other times you’re stuck on the river, fishing a piece of crap and wondering why you’re bothering.

Happily, this test turned out largely crap-free.

First Look: The Redington RS4/Rise Reel Combo

Rod, reel, line and case - $410 MSRP

First things first; I’m happy to note the RS4 fly rod and Rise fly reel combo came fully rigged – the backing, Rio Mainstream line and leader were already knotted and on the spool.

Thank dog. (Underground pet peeve: Fly rod/reel combo sets that require a novice fly fisherman to learn four arcane knots before they start casting.)

Because Singlebarbed and I were jointly testing this combo (and I’ve got a thing for 6wt fly rods), we tumbled for the Redington RS4/Rise Reel combo in a 9′ 6wt (4-pc).

That way, I could abuse it with streamers, fish with it dries, try it on the Rogue (where steelies are always a possibility), and maybe fling some sinking lines – while Singlebarbed could fish it on his beloved brownlines.

So what happened?

The RS4 Fly Rod

Modern fly rods tend towards speed, a basic truth which means I often fish older rods.

And while I was expecting more of the same from the Redington RS4, I was pleasantly surprised.

The picture's a little off; the RS4 is an attractive olive color

After fishing it for a half-dozen trips (my first couple trips with it saw me flinging streamers, dry flies and yes – the dreaded split shot rig), my reaction was “This is nice. This is OK.”

It is relatively fast, but lacks the pool cue demeanor that has marred so many other modern fly rods.

After using it a while, I was tempted to simply declare it “a nice fly rod,” but after catching fish on everything from dries to streamers on the thing, I realized it only qualified as “nice” by the loftiest of standards.

In other words, this is a very fishable rod – one that surprised even the Tupperware-averse, bamboo-loving Dave Roberts into saying “I’m impressed. It’s a good rod. It feels pretty nice when you cast.”

Wayne Eng (another frequent Underground Lab Rat tester) found it wholly fishable on several fronts, and Wayne fishes more different fly rods than just about anyone I know).

“This is pretty sweet” he said (in his typically aw-shucks, laid-back Wayne demeanor, like he was the first Chinese person to grow up in Mayberry).

In truth, it wouldn’t be too many years ago that the RS4 would be considered a high-end rod; it was strong, yet progressive enough that it retained a lot of “feel.”

I fished it with sinking lines and big flies, and never ran headlong into that messy zone you used to hit with fast-tapered fly rods, where the tip is too light to handle the stresses, but the butt’s too stiff to allow a little feedback to make its way to your casting hand.

The RS4 kind of sneaks up on you – you’re just fishing and the right things happen, and you realize it’s a better rod than you thought it would be for the money ($250 MSRP). Here’s the Redington pitch on the RS4:

More RS4 Details:

• Moss-colored blank made with high-end 51- million modulus Toray graphite
• AAA grade Portuguese cork handle
• Pac Bay Aluminum Oxide stripping guides
• Laser engraved machined aluminum with moss colored graphite insert (Handle A) and laser engraved anodized machined aluminum on saltwater models (Handle B)
• Alignment dots with length and line designations labeled on each section above ferrule
• Three spey rod models are available with a 15″ fore-grip
• 2-piece and 4-piece outfits come with the new Moss RISE reel, prespooled with backing, knotless leader and RIO Mainstream fly line in a durable black carrying case.
• Lifetime Warranty

It also does what a reasonable 6wt should – it doesn’t fold up when you do something horrifying, yet you really can fish a #20 BWO with it without fear of gifting flies to fish on the hook set.

The reel seat and guides are strictly middle-of-the-road; the by-now-standard woven carbon fiber reel seat and reverse Western grip (which wasn’t too skinny for a change) are reliable, proven stuff.

The rod itself is an attractive olive color (we’re happy the fly rod manufacturers finally discovered color), and the whole shebang comes in a black cordura case with a bulged end (the reel can stay on the rod).

The Rise Fly Reel

If the Redington RS4 rod sneaks up on you, the Rise fly reel stands up and makes a statement right away.

The Rise - especially the burnt orange color - is a style fly reel

It’s one of the current crop of impressively high-tech machined fly reels that runs smooth and quiet.

Again, this isn’t the whiz-bang high-end stuff, but it’s still way more than we need to get the job done. Here’s Redington’s description of the reel:

This fully machined 6061 T6 aluminum Mid-arbor construction reel features a cork on Teflon center drag design, a Koyo one-way clutch and ceramic coated bearings for smoothness and durability.

Redington is running ads describing the Rise as “Rod Candy” and that could be an accurate description. The burnt orange reel is – if the L&T’s reaction to the picture is any indicator – going to sell real well, and the “moss” reel that come with the set we tested looks, well, great.

In truth, there’s not a lot to say about the reel, except that’s impressively built, extremely smooth, and yes – good looking.

Unlike so many reels, the handle was big enough to grip (though I’m always up for something a teensy bit bigger).

And while it’s a part of a combo, if I had to choose between the RS4 rod and the Rise reel, I’d probably pick the Rise as the more interesting of the two (though that’s colored by the fact I already own a lot of nice 6wt rods, but I am looking for a 6wt reel).

Wayne Eng fishes it on a coldy, rainy winter day

In fact, when I pressed the rod/reel/case combo into Singlebarbed’s beefy paws, I told him not to dissolve the reel in any of that toxic sludge he fishes; I might want to buy it.

Whether I do or not depends largely on my mood. The MSRP of the Rise is $159, which puts it in the same range as the impressively engineered Lamson Konic reel and a host of other competitors.

We could argue endlessly about which represents the better value (the machined, stylish Redington Rise or the wonderfully engineered drag of the less-sexy Konic), but it might be best to simply say you don’t have to buy a $500 fly reel to get something that works really, really well.

The Other Goodies

The case the combo comes in is nothing special; the cut-out vinyl window actually sinks to the level of cheesy, though it’s hardly a showstopper.

The Rio Mainstream fly line is the one questionable component of this kit, though it’s likely a good choice for a less-experienced angler.

It’s one of those front-loaded lines designed to make modern graphite rods and clunky split shot rigs easier to cast (it does a passable job on big flies), but like most front-loaded lines, it’s less fun when you’re trying to carry a lot of line and the last of the belly slides out past the tip.

Still, it’s part of the combo, and I sure as hell wouldn’t not buy the whole shooting match because of the line. It works. And yes, it floats and picks up nicely (as all new lines do).

The Final Word

It’s likely the Redington RS4/Rise Reel combo will find its way into a pair of distinct markets. First is the novice fly fishermen who is morally opposed to buying a starter kit of any kind.

Second would be a more experienced fly fishermen looking for a backup combo or even a 6wt to rely on when it’s too windy to fish the 4wt.

The large/mid-arbor fly reel has become the standard.

Either way, the combo is a steal for the money $410 MSRP (I found it on the Internet for well under $400), and the 4-pc 9′ 6wt rod lists for $250 – making it a good choice for the thrifty angler, and a nice travel-sized backup when you’re heading off into the places where a broken rod means you beg your friends to use their spare (not recommended).

Because the rod came to me in the winter – and I’ve been fishing more small streams than 6wt-sized water – I can’t comment on the durability of the kit (outside of the fact that you can apparently smack it against a tree, hold your breath, and not break it).

And yes, it still features Redington’s lifetime warranty – a fact much appreciated by clumsy, forgetful and drunken hard-fishing anglers.

I’m not going to pretend – even for a second – that Redington’s RS4/Rise combo is something that you absolutely have to buy.

Instead, I’m inclined to view it as either a really solid value right smack in the middle of the industry, or a sign that fly fishing gear has come a long ways in the past ten years – to the point that the difference between the great stuff and the “value” stuff isn’t nearly as dramatic as the price would indicate.

See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: Fly Fishing, fly fishing reel, fly rod, redington, redington fly fishing gear, Redington rise fly reel, redington RS4 fly rod

Our ongoing fly fishing wading boot review is about to enter a new chapter – this one written largely in Montana.

The Simms boots were nice, all-around boots (stonefly not included)

The Underground’s Director of Wading Safety (me) and a handful of local guides who foolishly picked up the phone when we called, we’ve tested the Patagonia Riverwalkers and Simms Headwater boots a fair amount, and now we’re spliciing a new pair of Korker Guide wading boots (and several pairs of interchangable soles) to the program.

Of course, my original goal wasn’t to test the boots themselves as much as the sticky rubber soles – would the latest generation be ready for anything fly fishermen have to throw at them?

The answer – at least as it pertains to the bare rubber soles – is “not quite.”

Close, but not quite.

Local guides Wayne Eng and Steve Bertrand liked the new rubber soles in the calmer parts of the Upper Sacramento River, but after a little testing, neither wanted anything to do with the sticky rubber in the McCloud.

I recently fished the McCloud in Patagonia’s Riverwalkers, and those sticky rubber soles did well enough that I survived the experience, but I’d probably screw in some studs if I fished the McCloud all the time.

The thinking on the Simms and Riverwalkers were confirmed by comments from readers, some of whom fish a lot.

Simply put, if you’re fishing tough waters (the McCloud is a notoriously difficult river to wade, as is the Pit), adding a few screw-in studs to the new sticky rubber soles is probably necessary, and frankly, that’s hardly the end of the world.

After all, what you’d end up with is a boot that grips about as well as felt in the tough stuff, grips better in tricky out-of-the-water situations, yet lasts a zillion times longer. (They also don’t transmit invasives quite so readily, though I believe the role of felt soles in that transmission is a little overplayed.)

Our Conclusions About Boots (So Far)

The Simms Headwaters, Korker Guides & Patagonia Riverwalkers, ready for Montana.

I’m going to write a big wrap-up article after Montana, but here are my impressions so far.

Simms Headwater Wading Boot

The headwater is a nice, protective boot (hard rubber toe cap is handy), and obviously, lots of folks love the Simms fit.

Still, I’ll be honest; I’m a tiny bit less sanguine about the Simm’s hard Vibram sole than I am the softer sole of the Patagonia boots, though I reserve the right to change that thinking if the Riverwalkers wear too quickly.

The Simms vibram sole feels hard and stiff, yet gripped beautifully on the Rogue River’s rock-snot, cobble-sized testing grounds (the aggressive tread pattern might have something to do wtih that).

On the bigger, angular rocks of the McCloud, the Simms rubber soles were less thrilling, though there’s ample testimony from readers that a few metal studs (screw ‘em in yourself) would largely fix that issue.

I do believe the Simms Vibram soles would last a long, long time.

Patagonia Riverwalkers

I’ve already extensively reported on the Riverwalkers, and since that report, I’m happy to say I’ve reinforced my original thinking.

The Riverwalkers are the best choice for the blueliner; they’re extremely comfortable on the trail and the very soft, very sticky rubber works beautifully in the small stream environment.

On a small, bouldered local freestone stream, I could practically walk up the side of dry boulders – a handy feature as fly fishing small freestoners is half rock climbing anyway.

The Riverwalkers are flexible, light, go on easy, and just generally make my feet happy. They hike beautifully.

My brain was less thrilled when I wore them on a recent outing to the McCloud, where I was trying awfully hard to catch a fish for a TV crew (and failing).

The sticky rubber sole worked fairly well, but the failure mode was bad – they gripped the McCloud’s very hard-to-wade rocks until they didn’t – and the sudden loss of grip was… ahh… unpleasant.

I’ll be blunt: the Riverwalker’s bare rubber sole worked surprisingly well on the McCloud, but long-dormant survivial instincts would demand I screw in a few studs if I fished the McCloud all the time.

So far, they’ve been fine for me on the Upper Sacramento.

The New Kid: Korkers

I only fished in the Korker’s boots on a small stream, so I can’t really evaluate the effectiveness of their new “Kling-on” rubber sole (which also comes in a studded version).

I owned an early pair of Korkers that offered zero ankle support, but the new boots are supportive and seemingly well-built – and offer you the ability to quickly change soles to fit your fishing environment.

Changing the soles is not a five-second job, so hiking in/changing soles/fishing/changing soles/hiking out is mostly fantasy. In my mind, the real benefit of these boots is their ability to become the shoe you need them to become that day.

This makes them (on the surface anyway) ideal for the traveling angler, who might want a studded felt/rubber sole for most of his trip, but needs a plain felt/rubber sole to wear in a drift boat.

Or maybe you’re spending half your trip hiking & bluelining, and the other half wading the really slippery crap.

One pair of Korkers could seemingly handle all those jobs. We’ll see how they work in Montana.

Two notes.

First, the Korker’s BOA metal lacing system seems more convenient than laces. For example, I could quickly tighten or loosen the boots over the course of the day with a quick turn of the knob.

Durability is a question: break a lace, and you’ve got all sorts of options, but break the BOA’s metal wire or the locking buckle, and you might be screwed.

Second, the Korkers run a teensy bit smaller than the Patagonia and Simms wading boots. I normally wear a size 10 shoe, so a size 11 wading boot is the norm.

I made the size 11 Korkers fit, but had to wear a thin liner sock to do so. If you’re a borderline size, order up one size in the Korkers, or simply buy them where you can try them on.

More To Come

See you in Montana, Tom Chandler

Technorati Tags: fly fishing wading boots, korker wading boots, patagonia wading boots, simms wading boots, wading boot reviews, wading boots

More water time for our test boots

We’re not quite ready to spring our testing extravaganza post yet, but the Simms Vibram-soled wading boots sent for testing have been seeing more river time at the hands (or feet, actually) of a pair of local fly fishing guides.

While Dave Roberts and I thought they performed surprisingly well on the rock-snotty Rogue River, reports from local guides Wayne Eng and Steve Bertrand aren’t quite as encouraging.

First, keep in mind we’re testing the bare rubber soles – to which no screws have been added.

Screwing in a couple of Simms metal studs would likely improve their traction in difficult circumstances, though it would also negate some of the benefits of non-studded boots (they don’t make guides crazy in drift boats, you can wear them in your car without attaching yourself to the gas pedal at an inopportune time, etc)

The Guide Word

First, Wayne said “I was feeling pretty good about the new boots… until I hit the McCloud. When I needed them, they simply weren’t there for me.”

Wayne has worn the Simms boots more than I have – and generally liked them – but once he hit the bigger, rounder, smoother rocks of the McCloud, he became an unhappy camper, suggesting the grip was simply unreliable.

A couple Undergrounders commented on similar experiences on the Pit River’s devilishly difficult bigger, smoother rocks, which clearly isn’t the strong suit of the Simms boots.

Steve Bertrand has also worn the boots enough to decide that they’re “a great wading boot, just not on this river.” Bertrand bemoaned almost falling twice on an Upper Sacramento river crossing he normally handles easily while wearing Simms’ older-model studded rubber boots.

Again, everybody loves the way they work out of the water – and how they operate under most conditions – but on the bigger, smoother surfaces, the no-studs Vibram sole isn’t making the grade.

Oddly, this isn’t end-of-the-world stuff. The McCloud and Pit are notoriously difficult rivers to wade, and the fact that the Vibram rubber soles have performed this well – sans a few easily installed studs – is a promising development.

In gravelly or cobbled rock environments, the Simms soles seems to be working well. For those fishing tougher water, screwing in a few studs might just offer the best of all worlds; a long-wearing rubber sole that works better than felt in many less-challenging environments (like climbing a bank or in the snow), but still grips well in the tougher stuff.

In other words, these rubber soles are clearly an improvement over Simms’ older rubber soles, so it stands to reason they’ll also exceed the performance of the older models once you add a few studs – while lasting far longer than felt.

Patagonia Riverwalkers

Sadly, the Patagonia Riverwalker boots (subject of a review here, and possessors of a softer sole material but a less-aggressive tread) weren’t being tested on the McCloud, so a side-by-side comparison isn’t yet possible (we’re working on it).

Ian Rutter – intrigued by my earlier post about the Riverwalkers – got a pair and has been testing them on the tailwaters and small streams of Eastern Tennessee, and has decided they’re close – but that slipping (and windmilling) an extra 10% of the time probably isn’t worth it to him.

He’s especially uncomfortable with their grip on very smooth, “bedrock” style surfaces.

Like the rest of us, he loves their dry-land performance and comfort, but will probably be sticking with felt a while longer.

We’ve got our hands full simply testing two pair of rubber soled boots, but we were still intrigued to learn that Cloudveil’s boots are going for a test ride over on the roughfisher.com blog.

So many boots. So little fly fishing time.

Still, we’ll keep you posted.

See you on the test range, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: Fly Fishing, fly fishing gear, fly fishing gear review, fly fishing gear test, patagonia riverwalker wading boots, simms vibram sole, simms wading boots, wading boot test

There are times when I suit up for a daylong fly fishing trip and start to suspect I’m carrying more gear than your average Navy Seal.

That makes more sense if I’m planning to invade Canada and secure strategically important bacon supplies than it does if I’m trying to outwit a particularly dumb animal. Still, it’s clear that no one actually forces me to carry more than a fly rod, reel, tippet, nippers, floatant and an Altoids tin of flies to a small stream.

But mostly, I do. Is it time to streamline things?

Gearheads probably won't find Tenkara that interesting - it seems pretty simple.

Tenkara is apparently a centuries-old Japanese style of fly fishing that sounds suspiciously like a high-tech version of the overlong cane pole and mono rig many of us used as kids (and I’m just going to say it: anyone belittling that kind of fishing may have lost the ability to have fun).

Frankly, the aesthetic of it all sounds so very zen – and it’s therefore interesting (from the Schenectady Daily Gazette) Fly-Fishing: Tenkara interest growing:

Tenkara, a centuries-old Japanese style of fly-fishing that uses a telescoping carbon fiber rod, 10-foot line, tippet and fly — no reel — is beginning to show up on trout creeks and Web sites across the country.

The first American tenkara tackle company opened for business in San Francisco last month, and a Japanese authority on the method will give a talk and demonstration at the Catskill Fly Fishing Center and Museum one week from Saturday.

Paradoxically, this style of fishing, designed for the smallest streams, employs 12-foot rods. The line, made of supple, furled (braided) monofilament, attaches to a short length of braided mono permanently fixed to the tip of the rod.

Tenkara rods collapse to 20 inches long, ideal for backpacking along small mountain streams. They are feather light (three ounces), elegant and sophisticated. There is even a nomenclature for the way they flex: a 5:5 is soft, while an 8:2 has a fast action. This is no cheapo crappie rod, so you don’t “swing” it open, but rather extend the sections, one at a time.

And while you can simply dap your fly if you want, you can also cast the tapered line, and even learn what tenkara USA calls “a large repertoire of casting techniques that may come in handy at different fishing situations.”

I’m not at all sure this would be suited to fishing a brawling western river jammed full of big fish (or a lake), but it could be a hit with backcountry hiking types, who already drill the handles of their toothbrushes to reduce weight.

The full fly fishing catastrophe (waders, rod, reel, flies, junk we’re afraid to live without) weighs the backpacker’s equivalent of several metric tons (ounces = pounds, and pounds = pain), yet a three ounce rod, some tippet, and a handful of flies might just fall under the radar.

The length of the rod would keep you out of most streams, and when’s the last time you cast more than 10′ of line on that small stream anyway?

The Retail Solution

A few seconds with Google found me staring face to face with the Tenkara USA Web site, where the sight of new, untried fly fishing gear (predictably) made my palms itch. (I also found a discussion about Tenakara on the Field & Stream fly blog.)

Since this is the Internet, I’m going to exercise my inalienable right to Make Bold Assumptions Based On Absolutely No Personal Knowledge Or Even A Grasp of the Basic Facts and suggest that:

• This could turn most of us into better “hunters” of fish
• On the right stream, it sounds like a hell of a lot of fun
• On the wrong stream, it looks like a nightmare in the making
• A lightweight, simple rig like this could score on backpacking trips
• Fly reels are overpriced anyway
• Fishing traditional soft hackles tied on heavy hooks would probably kill with this technique
• We’re talking 13′ long rods on small, brushy streams, so the lifetime warranty is a good thing

Without getting too awfully zen about the whole thing, I admit the idea holds a certain appeal, in part because it feels like a simpler approach to a sport that’s famous for self-inflicting a lot of complications on itself.

Undergrounders? Thoughts? The floor is yours.

fly fishing, tenkara fly fishing, fishing, fly fishing small streams

Technorati Tags: fishing, Fly Fishing, fly fishing small streams, tenkara fly fishing